


The Mating Habits of Merlin

by Bryn_Myrddin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Auror Harry Potter, Dating, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Flirting, Fluff, Harry had a bad day, Magic, Meet-Cute, Merlin has many feels, Merlin has strong feelings about scotch, Merlin is so gone on her, Secret Identity, Secret Organizations, Slice of Life, Whiskey & Scotch, Wizarding Politics, Wizarding World, about many things, but this sexy dude at the bar has things looking up, so does Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryn_Myrddin/pseuds/Bryn_Myrddin
Summary: Just because the woman at the bar is a sight for sore eyes doesn't mean Merlin will let her disrespect the Scotch she's about to toss down like it's gutter swill.





	1. The Bar, Fate is set

**Author's Note:**

> OMG i'ts been forever but this plot bunny has been HAUNTING me. It says Merlin's actual name is Hamish on his Wiki page so yep! In this my headcannon is that he was born in '67 making him 13 years older than Harry (Hadrianna).

Merlin, or as he preferred in his limited personal life _Hamish_ , had never regretted joining Kingsman.

Not when it cost him any semblance of a normal existence, not when good men he knew died, and not when everything went tits up like his latest operation today when the intel was bad and Galahad ( _Harry_!) had gotten seriously injured taking out the target and stopping one of the world largest child trafficking rings.

But days like today were taxing, which lead to him being seated in his favorite bar in London nursing a neat malt scotch in the darker corner of the pub.

It was a great place and he had been lucky to discover it early on in his career, the owner was a fellow northern transplant who ran a tight ship with excellent liquor and had no time for nonsense at his establishment.  Thus the dark wooden walls and green accents with the great classics crooning in the background created a perfect space for gentleman looking to hide away from the world for a few hours.

It was a bar that made itself on its regulars, and while he was no drunk, he’d spent enough time in the place to know who would be there on a Wednesday night.

Ashford the 55 year old moneyed gentleman would be in his booth in the corner reading yesterday’s paper and finally getting to do the crossword his harridan of a wife would never let him finish.

Jonathan the 40 year old stockbroker would be nursing a large tumbler of whiskey while pointedly looking anywhere but his phone.

And Alfred and Oswald the 80 year old duo would be grunting at each other in some sort of conversation while watching the telly and scowling.

There were an assorted other few who typically made an appearance on Wednesdays, however on this particular Wednesday Hamish couldn’t be bothered to check to see if Gerald still was in his tweed phase or if Kenneth was even more bald than last week.

This Wednesday the entire bars attention was on the black haired beauty slumped over the bar, hands fiddling with an untouched glass of one of the finer scotches that one could order and looking absolutely exhausted.

It was strange to find a woman who would brave the rather unwelcoming entrance and walk through the rather dour, obviously masculine bar and stay long enough at the bar to order a drink.  Even rarer that the woman was _attractive,_ and dear lord, she was.

A thick tumble of wild raven hair fell down to her mid back, framing a pale angular face with a straight nose and sharp cheekbones dusted with a rosy flush.  Her figure was sleek, toned and suggested an active profession which her clothing, dark and professional, but utilitarian and rather form hugging.

It was clear that _something_ was bothering her, a fact that became even clearer as her shoulders braced back and she went to toss the scotch down _likeanabsoluteanimal!!!_

“tha’s no’ how you drink it” he found himself saying, unable to control the word slipping out of his mouth like an untrained schoolboy and not the elite Kingsman he’d been for years from his regular seat a few stools down from her at the bar.

Her hand stilled, the liquid sloshing around dangerously as her eyes flew up to meet his.  And by god he’d never seen such eyes.  A fierce peridotite green rimmed with thick lashes started at him challengingly.

“Oh?” the one syllable cut through the air and left him almost breathless in anticipation.  Her voice was husky, carrying the commanding undertone that natural born leaders always seemed to “and I suppose you have a recommendation?”

“that’s a nicely aged Laphroaig lass.  You’ll kill yourself and disrespect the drink shooting it down li’ that” he only half joked to her as the corner of her mouth raised in amusement.

“Kill myself huh? That doesn’t sound so bad right now.” Her voice came out dry as could be as the tiniest spark of humor lit in her eyes.

Hamish couldn’t help the swell of male pride the welled up in him at her reaction.  His job being what it was didn’t allow for much, really any, time to go out and meet the fairer sex, and he had it much easier than the dedicated field agents!   So having a pretty girl (well, really woman) subtly respond to his mild flirting was quite gratifying.

“But you’d still be disrespecting the Drink, and tha’d be a damn shame.” He responded, letting the edges of his mouth curl up as well.

“Well, I supposed we can’t have that.” She acquiesced, amusement coloring her tone as she slowly lifted the tumbler to her mouth and took a sip, only to nearly spit it back out much to his horror and amusement.

“Never had Scotch before?” he asked gently, repressing the laugh that almost made its way out as he offered her a clean handkerchief.

“No,” she answered looking at the glass mournfully “I just needed a strong drink, clearly I’m out of my league though.”

“Well, I can’t fault you for taste.” He acknowledged as he lightly toasted he with his own glass before taking a sip.

“Thanks, I suppose.” She grinned at him now, reaching over the stools that separated them offering her hand

“I’m Hadrianna” she offered as he reached out as well

“Hamish.” He replied, taking in the feel of her soft had in his, the smooth feeling not quite backing his original assumption of a labour intensive job but utterly pleasant feeling when held within his own.

“So Hamish…” she started, looking at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes sending a pleasant shiver down his spine “how would you feel about giving this utter pleb a quick lesson in the finer arts of scotch appreciation?”

 

And just like that he was smitten.


	2. A Fateful Bar Setting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadrianna remembers first meeting Hamish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their first meeting is in the Summer of 2008. I haven't been able to work it into the story yet, but yeah...

The first time Hadrianna saw him was when she stumbled into the closest bar after the most _shite_ day possible.

 

She’d been up all night with Teddy who’d had a horrible case of food poisoning after a friends birthday party, only to be called into work with an urgent firecall right after he’d managed to keep down a saltine and some water to find the Auror department in an absolute state of panic after an early morning tip off placed their most wanted criminal in Diagon Ally, right under their noses.  So after managing everyone into teams and staying on call while the teams were sent out after him she’d managed an apple and cup of tea before being dragged into testify at 3 high profile court cases all afternoon.  Then, before she was even able to turn in the direction of the Ministry exits She’d need accosted by Ginny (who’d taken a bit too much after her mother for Hadrianna’s tastes in some things) who was just returning with an international portkey and nattered on and on about this lovely Mediwizard she’d met at her game in Germany, and wouldn’t she like to go to dinner with him? And just like that she was roped into attending Dinner at the Leaky Cauldron with Ginny, Neville, and a few other Hogwarts alums their age, the dinner quickly deteriorating into a subtle inquisition on why they were so happy being married and why wasn’t a pretty woman like herself tied down yet?

Truly, it was probably one of the most trying days she’d had in years, compounded with the fact that they _still_ had not caught Melvin Montegrino, the lowlife scum who’d managed the #1 spot with his talent for brewing polyjuice in order to overpower and take over the lives of those much more well off, only to drain their accounts and leave a string of murders in his wake.

So she’d staggered into the dimly lit bar that she’d never seen anyone actually go into (but had always been there) right down the street from the Leaky and had told the barman to give her a glass of his strongest.

She’d sat there, not particularly caring about the stares that she was getting from what clearly were _entrenched_ patrons.  One glance around the place could tell you that those who came here did so with frequency and that surprises (particularly of the feminine variety) where in short supply here.

But no one had bothered her, content to stare at her a bit before carrying on with whatever they had been doing as a Sinatra song started to play in the background.  It wasn't until she’d recovered enough to attempt to drink whatever it was the Barman had given her when a low, gravelly voice with a lovely brogue had come from the man a couple seats down, closer to the darker part of the bar, who’d merely glanced at her when she came in but now sounded pained.

“tha’s no’ how you drink it”

Those were the first words the man called Hamish ever spoke to her, and from the following conversation it became clear that he was a bit of a scotch fan with a sense of humor.  She still didn’t know what had possessed her at the time to respond to his subtle flirtation.  It was clear from the very start he was quite a bit older than her, but he had clearly aged well and was _very_ fit, making it impossible to truly guess his age from looks alone.  But it wasn’t his blatant good looks that had her responding as she had, no.  Looking back on it now she could say for certain it had been the air of dangerous competence that he seemed to wear like an unconscious mantel, couched by what seemed to be a wicked sense of humor.

Only looking back could she tell that Hamish had unknowingly prodded her thrill seeking nature awake from where it had gone dormant under the weight of responsibilities being the Girl-Who-Won, Lady Potter, Lady Black, Head Auror and Teddy’s godmother.

She’d spent quite a bit of that night listening to him wax poetic on the finer points of scotch and how it should be appreciated, eventually pushing her abandoned drink over to him as they drew closer and closer through the night, eventually reaching the point where she could feel the heat radiation off of him, yet they weren’t quite touching.

And when it came time for them to part ways, she’d never blessed Andy so much in her entire life.  First, for watching Teddy that night, but second for insisting she carry a heavily warded muggle phone since Teddy attended a muggle primary school so she could offer this fascinating man a way to keep in contact.

“I don’t suppose you would want my number?” she had grinned at him, meeting his intense gaze with her own.

“I would very much indeed like your number Hadrianna.” He’d responded, everything about his seeming to intensify as he’d watched her snag a napkin and scribble her mobile on it, taking it and pressing it to his lips when she gave it to him, maintaining eye contact all the while and causing shivers to go down her spine at the gesture.

When she’d gotten home that night, tired and not at all looking forward to the next day, the simple text that pinged on her phone had her falling asleep with a smile.

_Sleep Well._

_-H_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG you guys are too good, thanks for the Comments/Kudos/Bookmarks!!!


	3. Merlin!

_“Merlin!”_ came the sharp gasp from his side as he tensed.

How did she know that name? Was this all a ruse with her as a honeypot? Why now reveal herself when they were having such a lovely stroll through Hyde Park?

Tensing and ready for anything he looked down at his companion sharply, only to discover she was clutching at her foot where a rogue piece of glass glittering on the ground seemed to have scrapped her and caused quite the amount of blood to surface.

“I beg your pardon?” was all he seemed to be able to say with ingrained instinct that had him pulling out his (Clean!) handkerchief and start dabbing at the wound.

“ah…” Hadrianna sighed almost fondly “sorry, I went to a rather closed off boarding school where we always used Arthurian legends as the basis for our epithets”

She smiled ruefully at him while clutching her bloody foot before continuing.

“Sorry, I know it’s a bit strange, but it was tradition, and I can’t seem to drop the habit now.”

Hamish cleared his throat and normalized to a relaxed posture.

“Sounds like quite the boarding school…?” he left the sentence open ended to see if she would address any of the burning questions he had piled on the tip of his tongue.

“It was, they really believed in tradition, so no electronics and a heavy emphasis on History among other things, of course only some of it stuck with us.” She laughed to herself as she was quite clearly reviewing her school days in her mind with the faraway look in her eyes.

Hamish found himself intrigued, and rather elated that there was at least on educational institution that seemed to focus on things beyond the bare minimum, before he found himself questioning…

“Wait, so you use Merlin as a swear?!”


	4. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin usually focuses better than this.

Merlin (and yes, it was Merlin today, he _was_ on duty) tried not to stare at his phone as he wrote code for the newest update to the glasses all Kingsmen wore.

But really all he could think about was her.

They’d gone to the park yesterday for an hour or two, the Sunday afternoon being particularly pleasant for this time of year and he’d managed to drum up the nerve to invite her for a stroll if she wasn’t too busy?

Needless to say she hadn’t been, and watching her walk around in the charming sundress she’d worn for the occasion had made him ponder briefly if maybe she was a Fae out of legend come to life to temp him.

Not even the brief panic over her strange choice of expletives or the scratch on her foot had ruined the cheerful, lighthearted mood that had overtaken them.

Merlin was a man.  An experienced man who’d taken his fair share of lovers to bed, and yet nothing in his life had ever left him feeling like this, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet!  But the raw magnetism, the chemistry he felt towards Hadrianna, it was something else, and if he were given to poetry (which he’d deny wholeheartedly) it could almost be described as magical.

(And in a small, romantic, part of his mind, one never to be talked about, he wondered if she was his Nimue reborn, and he really was living in some sort of fairytale.)

And he knew she felt it to, every time the locked eyes or he held her hand in his despite now only having spent at most, 7 hours collectively in her company, he knew this was going to be no ordinary acquaintance. 

But none of that probably mattered if she didn’t texted him back.

Looking anxiously at his personal device propped up on the desk, blank screen taunting him with each minute that passed by he waited.

She had said that she’d text him about their next outing (because they _had_ agreed to another one in the next few days) but it was nearing 16:00 and she still had not sent anything.

Sighing, he gathered up his cold tea and made to refresh it from the kettle on the other side of the room when suddenly –

The alert went off.

Throwing himself back in his chair and accidentally deleting all of the code he’d worked on in the past two hours (good riddance, there’d been 9 bugs he’d have had to go back and fix anyways) he picked up the small rectangle to see what he’d been waiting on.

_How was your day?_

_-H_


	5. She's a Lady

It had only been a week since she had met Hamish but Hadrianna could honestly and with complete certainty say she had never fancied a bloke as much as this.

From his good looks, to his lovely deep voice, to the way he carried himself, ever the gentleman in an increasingly un-gentle society.  Perhaps, she admitted to herself as she went about getting ready for their third outing, it was very much to do with how freely she could just _be_ with him, no girl-who-lived nonsense she got from the general populace (still), he didn’t know she was filthy rich, and the old fashioned mien he exuded only made her more comfortable, after spending over half her life now in a very old fashioned society.

Which is why she did feel slightly guilty about having to lie to him about well, her entire life.

Like now.

They’d been having a lovely lunch at a café located not too far from the bar where they’d first met when the topic of employment came up.

“Oh, I am in management at a private security firm.” Nice, simple, and with a dash of truth she swallowed back the truth that had so desperately wanted to come out.

“You?” she managed to fire back, covering her slight grimace with a sip of delicious tea.

“I managed IT for a global corporation.” He responded leaning back with a sigh, “not very glamorous and the hours are terrible, but I do enjoy it.”

“Ah, computers…” she mussed taking another sip, trying to recall any technology related information she knew… it wasn’t much.  Blushing she looked up at him again to see him staring at her, brows quirked _adorably._

“This is quite embarrassing to admit, but i don’t know much about technology.  Aside from my mobile I don’t much use it.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Hadrianna has asked him for tea he’d been ecstatic. 

She was a lovely women, true, perhaps a bit younger than was really proper these days but he wasn’t going to let that stop him from enjoying her company.  She was so… authentic, and charming, and over all she was the woman who he fancied more than any other whom he’d had acquaintance with.

Being in Kingsman, he always had to suspect this may be a trap, but as she bashfully admitted to limited expertise with tech he could believe it. 

True, being in management probably meant she at least had a passing knowledge or e-mail and a few web applications, but the time he had spent with her lead complete credence to her claim.

As odd as it was coming from him, Hadrianna was terribly old fashioned.

It was probably the most endearing thing about her, if he was being honest, her old fashioned manners that could have placed her as a noble lady in the Victorian era, her speech patterns, and even to a certain extent the way she dressed.  It all screamed upper class old money, without the force air of someone who was doing it for show.

 

Hadrianna was a _lady._

 

And by gods, she’d be his lady if he had anything to say about it.

 

 

* * *

_Later that day..._

 

Harry Hart lived in a chaotic world.  Day to day he did and learned about such outlandish things that very little anymore truly surprised him in any real capacity. 

So when Merlin started to check his _personal_ phone a little more often than usual, it barely registered.

When Merlin started pausing between tasks and smiling at said phone before typing out a reply to whatever was said, barely a Blip on the radar, but a blip nevertheless.

However when walking past their resident tech guru and his good friend he caught a whiff of an unfamiliar feminine scent off the man, well, that warranted a bit more attention, after all, who else would be qualified to vet Merlin’s new lady love?

So he’d done his due diligence, and through a way that would remain secret to his grave managed to obtain a photograph of Merlin and this woman strolling through the park.

And armed with a picture, a name, address, and brief history soon followed.

Observation phase one, commenced,

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I intend to keep this like a lose collection of drabbles and oneshots, not a full blown story as that will never be finished. Let me know what you think?


End file.
